Peter Quarts, landlord of "The Bunch of Grapes," has a very rational understanding with Ebenezer Cannibal, Common Informer; who, by the advantage of such intimacy, calls for what he likes best, chucks the barmaid under the chin, promises Mrs. Quarts to be godfather to the next boy,--the mother, though intensely hating Ebenezer, receiving the offer as a very flattering mark of distinction; indeed, there is at "The Bunch of Grapes" no such honoured guest as Ebenezer Cannibal. And what is the goodly fruit of this? Why, there may be a snug game of cards in the parlour; the fiddle and the hautboy have leave to sound; and more, should a neighbour, blessed with prolific swine, now and then wish to raffle off a few sucking-pigs, the ceremony takes place with not the least fear, on the part of Peter Quarts, of an information.

A very interesting passage in the life of Ebenezer has, it matters not how, come to our knowledge; we vouch for the verity of the adventure, which we shall narrate in his own words, printing a letter forwarded by Cannibal to a brother Informer:

LONDON, May —, 1835.

"Deer tom-This kums opin you are Well as it leaves Us at present. We are kum to town from a most delicyious trip to Chelltenum can't say much for the Waters, and the brandy hat the Hinn, the was not the best as you and me ave had on the coste of Sussecks. However, thank God! things is turned up well on the Ole; i did the post-shayse touch agin primely. We tooke babby with us to give things a colour, my missus looked as delikate as she coulde, and, as luck wolde ave it, babby warnt very well. The Landlord thought me hinnocent as Milke, and so missus and me and gal lived like fitin cocks, and evry day, the old oman and childe and gal goes out in a po-shayse for, as i sayde, a hairing. Well, the two fust days the landlord gives the poste ticket, and i begun to thinke him two downe for Cannibal; howsumever, as he founde out that the chay never went as far as the turnpick, and that missus and babby only wanted a short hairing, he drops the ticket, and then, Now I has him,' says I, 'downe as a ammer!' How we did putt bye the Shampayne that day at dinner. Well, tom, so we lives for aboutte six weaks, and God be praist for it, the hair did us alle a morte o' good; but now the fun's comin. Six Weaks bein gone, the lanlord walkes up one day at brakefast, and says, rubbin his ands, hand smilin like a strete door nocker, My little bill, sir,' says he 'if quite konwenient.' 'To be sure,' says I, brakein a hegg and a winkin at him, 'two be sure-the bill.' ear

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he.

it is, sir,' says i looks at it, and it mayde my hart beet for joy, it was sich a long un. Wery eye prices ear,' says i, lookin at the bill. 'it's a eye hinn,' says the landlord, tryin to kum grand; wherehupon i gets up, and givein him a office look, i says, says i, 'mr. lanlord, do you love your kuntrey?' i hope i do,' says he. 'Then,' says i, 'if you ave the buzum of a Patryot, how dare you think to rob and swindle his most greyshus mageste, God bless him?' 'what do you meene?' says the lanlord, turnin pailer than his nekkloth,-' what do you meene?' 'where's them tickets, the po-chayse, the dooty, eh?' and i looks at him terrible. 'it was alle a mistake, sir,' says he.-' can't help it,' says i, 'the Xize prospers on mistakes.' 'i trust, sir,' says bonniface, 'i'm dealin with a gen'l'man', and then he looks verry dowtful. 'you are,' says i, but the hinstytewshuns of the kuntrey must be supported: what's to be kum of the krown, and the establisht Church, and tryal by Joory, and abeas korpuss, if there's no patryotizm—if men shirk the Xize?' then he begins to knowe his customer, and says, 'well sir, you won't be ard with me?' 'God forbid, says i; 6 SO i tell you what, old fellar, write me a receat for this sixty pound, and, to make it all smooth, and us over a bit o' rag for twenty, to take us to lundun to our peaceful home.' oh! tom, you should ave seen how he jumpt! and swore so, missus and babbye was forced to leve the roome. 'well,' says i, at last, 'it's no matter,' and i makes a fumblin in my pocket as if i was goin to take out my pus, 'you know the penhaltys,' says i,—and they was swingein, for we had the po-chayse often three times a day, you know the penhaltys?' i repeats, when he says nothin, but takin out his pocket-book, black in the face, raps me outt a twenty, writes a receyte, dams me when he's on the stayrcase for a willainly informer; when, not chusin to be insulted in our owne hinn, we packt up our trapps and started for towne. i made two pounds out of a farmer on the roade. i askt him for a lifte in his cart, made him tak a shillin, and then frightent him with information for carryin passingers in a untaxt weicle.

"yours, deer tom, till deth.

"EBENEZER CANNIBAL."

"P. S. Mugs, the lanlord of the Feythers, rides rusty, and is slo with the hush-money; i'm told he hadde a dance and two fiddlers on Fryday, and in Lent, two,-in his backe parlour. This must be seed into."

With the above epistle, illustrative of his uses and his purpose, we close our essay on the COMMON INFORMER.

THE FAMILY GOVERNESS.

BY MISS WINTER.

"It is most vexatious-most distressing!" ejaculated Mr. Burleigh, of Effinghame, as he paced up and down his breakfast-room, awaiting the appearance of his lady. "I cannot think of it with toleration!" he continued, as he stopped before the window, commanding a view of his own spacious park, and of the distant Frith of Forth, with its rocks and islands. Nothing in the view, however, seemed to give ease to his troubled spirit; for, flinging himself into an arm-chair, at one end of the table, which was loaded with the multifarious luxuries of a Scotch breakfast, he resigned himself to gloomy despondency. At length the door opened, and Lady Harriet Burleigh entered.

"I do trust, Lady Harriet," he immediately cried, "I do trust you now see the necessity of parting with the cook! The dinner yesterday was execrably bad."

"You have only to make up your mind to give the requisite salary," replied the lady, with fashionable indifference.

"I have made up my mind, Lady Harriet, provided I can obtain a complete history of the man's training. I will know where he began life; under whom he studied; and every family in which he has since lived," said Mr. Burleigh, solemnly.

"Well, here is the document furnished by Chouffleur, Lord Dytchland's late cook," replied Lady Harriet; "I told you, a week ago, I had received it."

66

Highly satisfactory, indeed," said Mr. Burleigh, reading, as he sipped his coffee with additional relish. "Salary, three hundred a-year; three under-cooks, a separate table, and the exclusive use of a gig. Well, well, I agree to this; I will write and conclude the negociation to-day. I must also see about another gardener: our fruit is very imperfect. I shall insist on knowing every particular of his life, from his apprenticeship upwards. No ignorant bungler shall pretend any longer to be the cultivator of my grapes and pines."

A silence which ensued was broken by the loud lamentations of two childish voices, proceeding from the terrace outside, with a

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